


What Is Found

by Selah



Series: Gensou [16]
Category: Jrock, Kagrra, Plastic Tree
Genre: Gen, Supernatural Elements, obakemono
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7210421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selah/pseuds/Selah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had been feeling it from the first moment they had met. An preternatural sense that had gone largely unproven. He knew his master was something otherworldly, but the details always seemed to be slipping through his fingers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Is Found

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine someone out there would really rather I update one of my WiPs about now, but I'm in the middle of THINGS, so another Tumblr meme fill it is instead. Time frame on this one is probably still early 2000s (2002-2004?).

It would happen sometimes in the middle of dinner, or perhaps just after lunch, or even sometimes with that last cup of tea before bed. A flicker out of the corner of his eye and for an instant, Ryuutarou would swear his master was not entirely human. Something in his eyes, or a flicker that looked a little too much like horns. Ridiculous, of course, and Ryuutarou told himself exactly that every time it happened. He was just imagining things, surely. And yet....

And yet there was still the fact that his master knew both who and what he was: Arimura Ryuutarou, vocalist of Plastic Tree and secret bakeneko. And then there was this house, what had obviously once been a rich man's estate, though his master had indeed done well to mask some of it. But no matter how he looked at it, Ryuutarou had a hard time believing that the estate had been so cursed, so abandoned that Isshi had been able to buy it for a song ... which begged the question of just how he had managed the purchase. He had already asked once, and though he couldn't quite believe the answer he had been given, he wouldn't ask again.

Arms abruptly slid around him, a chin resting on his shoulder, and he very nearly bolted. And then a soft chuckle sounded in his ear.

“Someone's deep in thought tonight.”

“I'm sorry, Master,” he mumbled, heat rising in his cheeks. “Did I –?”

“It's all right, pet. Come, a last cup of tea befo–.”

Isshi's words cut off sharply at the sound of a loud crash in front of the house, as of a car breaking through the wooden gate.

“Stay here,” his master said, all teasing gone from his tone. Ryuutarou nodded, though he couldn't resist tiptoeing to the front window and twitching aside one curtain just enough to steal a peak. Not that he could see much in the darkness of almost midnight. A dark hulk of a car had indeed punched through the gate, but he couldn't see who it was or hear a word of the conversation Isshi was having with their uninvited guest. He didn't think the gate was all that far from the house, and yet not even a rumble reached his ears. Frowning, he slipped down into cat form and hopped up into the window sill. And that's when he saw why the silence. With bakeneko eyes, he could see the thin silencing shield that stood like a bubble around his master and their strange glowing guest. Obakemono of some sort, he was certain of that much, and probably a fire type with the way he was glowing, but more than that he couldn't say.

And then it happened. A flickering and the energy about Isshi changed dramatically, his true form suddenly unmasked. Ryuutarou couldn't contain a terrified squeak, falling backwards out of the window and scurrying under the couch. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't, and yet he could think of no other explanation for what he had just seen. But why? Why would a creature like that even _want_ to make a home among humans? And how could something so beautiful see anything of value in something as degraded and useless as him? He shuddered and curled himself up into a tighter ball, purring raggedly in a vain attempt to make himself feel better. Maybe he could purr himself to sleep and forget all about what he had just seen. Doubtful, but a kitty could hope, right? At least that was what he kept telling himself as he tried to make himself pass out and forget.


End file.
